


Like Two Pigeons In One Nest

by Thistlerose



Category: Disney Princesses, Frozen (2013)
Genre: Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Missing Scene, Sibling Love, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reconciliation, involving a shared quilt, hot chocolate, and many unspoken regrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Two Pigeons In One Nest

Anna insisted that she was fine; at least, that was what she seemed to be trying to convey with her blithe hand-waves and her clenched smile. But when Elsa cupped her cheeks, her skin was cold and waxy, and the shudder that passed through her seemed to come from her core. 

Looking over Anna's shoulder, Elsa spotted the blond young man she'd only half-noticed earlier, and beckoned to him. Clearly eager to help, he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it with curious tenderness around Anna's trembling shoulders. Then, between them, he and Elsa half-carried, half-led Anna back to the palace.

Kai and Gerda must have been watching at the windows and seen them coming, for they were ready with a quilt and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and the fire in the drawing room was already crackling. The young man swept Anna up into his arms, and then laid her gently on the low couch in front of the fireplace. Gerda removed her wet boots and stockings, then tucked the quilt up around her chin. Kai set the hot chocolate on the table beside the couch.

"I'm fine, really," Anna murmured, turning her head instinctively toward the fire, her lashes fluttering in an effort to keep her eyes open.

"Please leave us," said Elsa. "Even you," she added in a kindly tone to the young blond man, whom she could sense wanted to stay.

Anna wriggled under quilt. Finally jerking one hand free, she said with a vague wave, "Elsa, Kristoff, Kristoff, Elsa.”

"I'll just, uh…" Looking uncomfortably from sister to sister, Kristoff scratched at the back of his neck, then jabbed his thumb in the general direction of the doorway. "I'd better go check on Sven and, uh, make sure Olaf hasn’t.... Anna,” he said with a polite if abrupt nod of his chin. “El - I mean Your Majesty." He pivoted on his heel.

Anna smiled beatifically at his retreating back.

“Time will tell, I suppose,” said Elsa with an indulgent smile of her own, “but I have a feeling I’m going to like this one better than Hans.”

Right away, Anna’s face crumpled. She closed her eyes as if in pain, and a blush like a bruise spread across her cheeks.

“I’m sorry!” Elsa grabbed fistfuls of her own hair and tugged in frustration. “Oh, what a stupid thing to say. I’m sorry, Anna. Please forgive me.”

Anna opened her eyes. In the shadow of her lashes, they were a deep twilight blue. “No, it’s all right,” she said softly. “You were right before. That whole thing with Hans was so stupid. I should have listened.”

“ _I_ should have listened.” Elsa sighed. Suddenly weary, she wanted to sit, but there wasn’t any room on the couch. So she began to pace to and fro in front of the fireplace, clasping and unclasping her hands in front of her.

Anna watched her for a few moments, then said, “Please stop. You’re making me dizzy.”

Elsa froze. “Oh! Sorry!”

“It’s okay. Here,” Anna said, pushing herself up against the cushions and bending her knees. Grateful, Elsa gathered her skirts around her legs and perched carefully on the edge of the couch.

They studied each other in silence for only the second time in thirteen years. Anna smiled tentatively, and after a few nervous heartbeats, Elsa felt the corners of her own lips tugging upward.

“Hi,” said Anna.

“Hi,” Elsa echoed. Then, in a rush: “I’m sorry. Not just for the eternal winter, but for – everything. Before, I mean. I wanted to be friends, but I was just so … frightened. Of hurting you again.”

“Again?”

Elsa nodded. Looking down at the hands that she’d unconsciously clasped in her lap, she said, “Once, when we were younger. I think I was about eight, so you must have been five. We were playing and I hit you with my – my power. It was an accident.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I know. We – Mother and Father and I – took you to the trolls, so they could heal you and erase that part of your memory.” She stole a glance at Anna.

Her sister was frowning now, her brows drawn together in stern concentration. But after about half a minute she shook her head. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s because they erased that part of your memory,” said Elsa, gently chiding. “Or maybe erased is the wrong word. They changed it, anyway. So you wouldn’t remember what happened. So you wouldn’t be afraid – of me.”

“I wouldn’t have been.”

Elsa just looked at her.

“No, really,” Anna insisted stubbornly. It took an effort, but she pushed herself up a little bit more and reached across her knees to catch Elsa’s hands in her own and lift them. “I promise I wouldn’t have been frightened. You’re my sister.”

Elsa wanted to tell her that she was wrong, or that at the very least she couldn’t possibly know what she might have felt when she was only five years old. But Anna was looking at her so earnestly, and the tips of her fingers, curled around Elsa’s, were pink and warm. So Elsa nodded and squeezed Anna’s fingers, rubbing her knuckles with the pads of her thumbs because she didn’t trust herself to speak without crying. She was happy, and yet – they had missed out on _so much._

Anna seemed to understand. Though clearly trying to sound casual, there was a hitch in her voice as she said, “Just think of all the snowman-building we have to catch up on. We’ll do it, too,” she went on quickly, as if to forestall Elsa from actually thinking about it. 

“We will,” Elsa promised. Then, because she thought she really might start crying if Anna kept holding her hands and looking at her like that: “But I think I’d like some hot chocolate first.”

For a second, Anna seemed confused. Then she followed Elsa’s gaze over to the table where the two mugs – still warm, but no longer steaming – rested. “Oh, right,” Anna said. “Haha. Um.” She dropped Elsa’s hands and twisted around to grab one of the mugs, almost losing the quilt in the process. Turning back, she handed the mug to Elsa, who held it between her hands and waited. 

But instead of getting her own mug, Anna bent and plucked up the quilt. Hitching closer to Elsa until they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, she tucked half of the quilt around her own waist, and then offered the other half to Elsa.

Elsa wasn’t cold – it was summer, after all, the fire was heating the room nicely and, anyway, she’d never been susceptible to chills – but she could not imagine refusing what her sister was offering her. So she took her half of the quilt and Anna got her mug, and then they sat together in companionable silence, sipping their hot chocolate, occasionally glancing at each other and trading shy smiles. That Arendelle might need its queen was an idea that seemed very far away at the moment, remote and quiet as the moon on a winter night. 

By and by, sleepiness stole over Anna again and she slumped against Elsa, a limp, warm weight. Elsa wrapped her free arm around Anna’s shoulders and held her while the fire before them burned and the setting sun filled the room with soft golden light.

1/29/2014


End file.
